Crawling in the Dark
by breakthehabit
Summary: After his parents are murdered, a young boy looks to Danny to help put his life back together. But how can Danny help, if he's barely holding his own together? CHAPTER 4 is Up!
1. Chapter 1

_I came up with the idea for this story after i watched the CSI:NY episode On the Job, but just hadn't started writing it until school started, and i didnt have anything to do during Advanced Math _

_Anyway, if anyone does read it, i need reviews:)_

_everyone knows the disclaimer-if i owned CSI, i'd be a lot richer...but i dont...so here u go_

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**Crawling in the Dark**

_**Chapter One**_

_(i would put lyrics, but they arent allowed, so just think of the chorus to Crawling in the Dark, by Hoobastank)_

The shrill buzzer on the alarm clock on Danny Messer's bedside table did little to drown out the high pitched ringing of the cell phone next to it. Groaning, he reached over and hit the snooze button on top of the clock. Sitting up and throwing off the light blanket he had been sleeping under, he swung his feet onto the cold, bare floor in his apartment and grasped blindly for his cell phone and glasses.

"Messer," he said sleepily into the reciever, putting on his glasses.

"Funny, you don't SOUND like a morning person," the voice on the other end said dryly.

"Aiden?" Danny stood up and flipped the lightswitch on the wall, flooding his room with bright light, and forcing him to shield his eyes while they adjusted.

"Yeah," she responded. "How are you doing?" Danny stifled a yawn.

"You woke me up to ask me that?"

"No, i woke you up to ask you what time your planning on coming in today. First day back, you know?" Danny almost dropped the cell phone from his hand. He had almost forgotten...and almost over slept. The clock on his bedside table blinked 6:20; he was supposed to be in in 10 minutes. Danny hated to be late...and he couldn't afford to, not today. Today would be his first day back since the Minhas shooting...

_..Since you killed the cop..._

..and facing Mac Taylor.

Quickly, Danny grabbed a pair of jeans from his dresser and pulled them on, then reached under the bed to locate his shoes.

"Danny?"

"Yes? Ahhh--" Danny dropped the cell phone, then felt the shoelace from one of his shoes underneath the bed. Grabbing the cell phone with one hand, and the shoe with the other, he straightened back up and steadied the phone on his shoulder.

"Danny, what ARE you doing?"

"Sorry Aiden,I woke up a little late, thats all," he said, glancing at the clock again. 6:23. Oh, _damn it. _Mac was going to kill him.

_Let's not give him another reason too..._

Danny heard Aiden chuckling on the other side of the phone.

"Up too late partying, huh?" Danny paused for a moment. He had hardly considered what he had done last night 'partying'.He had been aquitted of the death of Minhas, they had determined that he had no fault. The subway was too loud for Danny to have heard him, and there was nothing he could have done. But it hadn't stopped him from staying up late into the night, unable to sleep as he replayed the entire ordeal over in his mind.

"Hold on," Danny said into the phone, placing it on the bed as he pulled his shirt over his head, and buttoned it in one fluid motion. Running a quick hand through his hair, Danny grabbed his cell phone and his jacket and ran out the door. 6:27.

_Damn._

"So...should i tell Mac your on the way?"

"Yeah, yeah, tell him i'm coming," Danny said, breaking into a jog as he exited his apartment building and headed towards his car.

"Alright," Aiden said. Danny was about to hang up, when Aiden's voice came over the phone again.

"Listen, Danny, are you sure your okay?"

Danny found his car in the parking lot, and opened the door with his key.

"Yeah, Aiden, i'm fine. Don't worry about it okay? Just make sure Mac knows i'm coming."

"Okay. See you soon."

Danny snapped the phone shut and started the engine of his car, burning rubber as he sped out into the parking lot and onto the busy New York street.

Halfway to the CSI building, Danny's cell phone began to ring in his pocket. Gripping the steering wheel with one hand and the phone with the other, he answered it and was surprised to hear Stella on the other line.

"Danny?"

"Stella, i'm on my way, i just fell a little behind--"

"Danny, it's okay, Aiden already called. We've got a case called in, why don't you just meet me there?"

Danny breathed deeply. Most likely, Stella wanted to seperate Danny and Mac for a little while. That was just fine with Danny-he wasn't quite sure he wanted to face Mac at that moment, especially when he felt like he could fall asleep at any moment.

"Alright," he said to Stella, "where is it?"

Stella gave him the address, not far from where he was sitting in New York traffic.

"Thats near here-i'll be there in about 10 minutes," he said into the phone.

"Flack and i will be waiting," Stella said. "And Danny?"

"Yeah?"

"It's good to have you back."

Danny let a small smile slip onto his lips.

"Thanks, Stella."

* * *

The rickety apartment building that the CSI's stood in front of seemed to wave and shake with the strong breeze, and Danny was almost certain he could hear it groaning.

Many of the building's windows were boarded up with plywood, the brick walls scrawled with the graffiti of various New York gangs. It didn't take a genius to realize that anyone that lived within its walls certainly did not cross the poverty line.

"Not exactly a fixer-upper, is it?" Dectective Don Flack remarked, eyeing the run down building. Danny snickered slightly.

"No, not exactly..." Danny broke off in the middle of his sentence for a yawn, and tried to cover it up with his hand. Flack gave him a concerned look.

"Rough night?" Danny shook his head quickly.

"No, i just stayed up a little late, thats all." Flack nodded, but Danny could tell he didn't believe him.

"Really, Flack," Danny insisted. "I'm fine."

Beside the two of them, Stella pulled down her sunglasses to get a better look at the apartment building.

"So what happened here?"

"Double homicide, fourth floor," Flack replied. He began walking towards the entrance of the apartment building, and Stella and Danny followed.

"Neighbors said around 6 am they heard a loud banging noise, then people shouting. After that, three gunshots," Flack said as they climbed the flight of stairs to the second floor.

"Super came upstairs after the tenants reported the shots, and found the bodies. We've already interviewed him, he's got an alibi and it's already been checked out-he was downstairs fixing a broken shower."

The two CSIs ducked under the police CAUTION tape on the second floor apartment, shining their flashlights into the dark room.The two victims, a man and a woman, lay crumpled on the floor of the apartment, blood staining the wooden floor boards.

"Who are they?"

"Josh and Dana Roberts," Flack said, reading off of his notes. "Looks like single gunshot wounds, to Mr. Roberts's back and Mrs. Roberts' chest took them both out."

Stella bent down to take a closer look at the two victims. Dana Roberts lay on her back, blood pooling around her body, emmenating from the bulletwound in her chest, her eyes open and empty. From the position of the hole in the material on her shirt, the bullet had pierced her heart and killed her instantly.

"Husband's wallet is missing, so you;d think robbery, but he's still got a pretty fancy watch on his wrist."

Stella turned her attention to the second body of Josh Roberts, lying a few feet behind his wife. But instead of lying on his back, and Dana had been, he was stretched out on his front, hands outstrechted, plainly displaying a shiny Rolex watch on his right wrist and blood pooling below his shoulders. Stella shined her flashlight along the victim's legs, and finally his bare feet, where there was a second smear of blood. _Probably trying to crawl, and reach a phone, _Stella thought, moving the light up to the far wall that had a phone mounted on it, and a door leading to another room. On the paneling of the doorway, Stella could see a hole, surrounded by shards of splintered wood.

"Found the third shot," Stella said, examining the wall, and producing a small pair of tweezers and an evidence bag. Sliding the bullet out of the paneling, she placed it into the evidence bag and held it up.

"I'm thinking a handgun," Stella observed, putting the evidence bag back into her kit.

"Ya know, you'd think they'd take the watch, too," Flack remarked, bouncing his flashlight's beam off the shiny metal circling Josh Roberts' wrist. Stella shook her head, walking back towards the body.

"After they fired the shots, they must of known they didnt have alot of time. The police would be on their way in minutes," Stella said. "Besides, this wasn't a robbery."

"What?"

"It's suicide for someone to rob in broad daylight, ecspecially in a small building like this, with only a few exits," she said. "The point of a robbery is to get in, get what you can, and get out-without being detected, if possible."

"And its hard to be undetected when your trying to kick down the door of the person you're robbing," Danny said, walking over from the entrance of the door, where he had been printing the handle. He opened the door wider, so that the others could see the blatant boot print stamped firmly on the wood.

"Right," Stella said. She walked over to the side of the doorway and picked up something lying on the ground.

"Chain for the lock. Broken in two." Stella slid the broken chain into an evidence envelope, and handed it to Danny.

"Alright then, if it WASN'T a robbery, then what was it?" Flack asked,annoyed. Stella gave him a sly smile.

"It was something else." Flack rolled his eyes, and continued to sweep the room with his flashlight. Danny shined his flashlight into the corners of the room, where three large packing boxes rested, unopened.

"They must have been planning to move somewhere," Danny said aloud, showing the boxes to Flack and Stella.

"Acording to the Super they just moved in three days ago," Flack said. "Why would they move out so soon?"

Danny shot a grin at Flack.

"You've seen this place, and you have to ask?"

"Good point."

"Well, they didn't even finish unpacking," Stella observed, stepping closer to the boxes. "The tape hasn't been removed from the boxes." Flack shined his flashlight around the apartment, searching for more of the boxes. When he didn't find any, he turned back to the CSIs, shaking his head.

"It doesnt make sense," he said. "These people move, and only bring three boxes? When i moved into my apartment, i had a whole truckload, and that was just me."

"NOBODY packs this light," he said, nudging a box with his toe.

"Especially guys with Rolex's," Danny remarked, eyeing the watch. He turned away from the boxes, and knelt down next to the body of Josh Roberts and the blood at his feet.

"Stella, did you see this blood pattern? It looks like he was trying to crawl somewhere."

"Yeah, i noticed that," she said, kneeling down next to the body. "Figure he was trying to crawl towards the phone to call for help."

Danny was about to nod in agreement, until he noticed something on the victim's belt.

"Stella, look at this." Danny reached down to the victim's belt and plucked off a small, silver cell phone out of his holder. He held it up to show his fellow CSI.

"Why would he crawl towards a phone if he has one right next to him?" Danny asked, taking another plastic evidence bag out of his kit and dropping it in.

"Maybe he wasn't trying to get to the phone," Stella said, pointing towards the open door next to the mounted phone on the wall. Danny stood up and walked towards the door, which was opened just enough to let a small sliver of light into the dark apartment.

The cut on Danny's forehead still twinged, reminding him of what had happened the last time he had tried to open a closed door in a crime scene. The suspect had gotten away, and he had chased him into the subway, where everything had went wrong...

Remembering the incident, Danny slowed his step towards the open door, and dropped his hand towards his gun. Being ambushed like that had almost gotten him fired..and it was not something he wanted to relive.

He had it halfway out of his holster before Flack caught his arm at the elbow.

"I don't think you're gonna need that, Danny..." he said, nodding toward the gun. Danny scowled lightly, and pulled his arm away from his friend. Ever since Minhas, no one had been open to the idea of his carrying a gun, and certainly not to him using it. But he had passed all of the tests, again-there wasn't any reason to doubt him.

_Nobody does trust me, do they? _he thought sourly, giving Flack daggers out of the corner of his eye as he drew his gun out of its holster, and carefully opened the door.

The room on the other side of the door was much smaller, but it still head the same dark atmosphere and the ancient rundown look, and it was empty. Danny held his gun loosely at his side, but raised it again when he caught sight of a closet, hidden off to the side of the room. It's doors, like the room's door, was slightly ajar...just like the closet in the Minhas shooting.

Danny found his gun hand shaking slightly when he heard a small scuffling sound coming from inside the closet as he remembered a suspect jumping out, the pain in his head as he chased him...

"Danny..." Flack had followed him into the room, and must have noticed his shaking hand.

"I'm fine, Flack," Danny muttered icily. He tightened his grip on his gun until his knuckles were bone white, and his hand steady. _What is wrong with you, Messer? _He had been fine during the tests, so what was going on now?_Come on...don't loose it on the first day..._ He shook his head, and pointed the gun into the closet.

"NYPD," he said into it. The shuffling inside the closet abruptly stopped, but Danny's sharpened hearing could still hear a faint sound, a sound of someone crying, coming from within the closet.

..._Crying?_

Steadying the gun in his left hand, Danny reached for the closet door with the other, curling his fingers around the handle. Taking a deep breath, Danny tightened his grip, and threw open the closet door.

His heart pounding, and his eyes and gun focused at the interior of the closet, it took Danny a moment to register exactly was he was seeing. Flack didn't have that problem; he was already out and running, calling out to the nearest police officer.

"Can i get the paramedics up here?"

Danny lowered his gun, and stared into the face of a little boy, crouched in the corner of the dark closet. The boy was covered in blood, and his grimy face was tearstreaked and bloody from a cut above his eyebrow.

As soon as he saw Danny, the boy sunk back deeper into the closet, and raised his small hands to cover his eyes, sobs shaking his little body. Snapping out of his shock, Danny dropped his gun into the holster at his side, and slowly took a step into the closet.

The boy tried to back deeper into the closet, but his back was against the wall, and he could do nothing but peek out at Danny through his fingers.

"Please don't hurt me," he whispered tearfully, terror filling his eyes as Danny tried to move closer. Danny felt a pang of sadness as he saw it, knowing that this boy must have been Josh and Dana's son...and was most likely in the room when they were killed.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Danny said to the boy, stopping where he was in the closet, and kneeling down a foot or so away. "I'm one of the good guys, see?" Danny pulled out his badge from his pocket, and held it out in front of the little boy. The child slowly lowered his hands from his face, sniffling, and landed his eyes on the shiny badge Danny was holding in his hand. Tentatively, he reached out a small hand, and snatched the badge quickly from Danny's palm. He turned it over in his small hands, and wrinkled his nose at the letters 'NYPD' printed on its front.

While the boy was busy studying the letters on his badge, Danny attempted to edge closer to him. As soon as he saw Danny move, the boy dropped Danny's badge and pressed him self further against the closet's wall, whimpering. Danny moved back quickly.

"Okay, okay," he said, holding his hands out in front of him. "it's alright...i'm with the good guys, remember?" Danny paused a moment. "Why don't you come out of there so we can get you some help, okay?"

The boy sniffled, then shook his head from side to side.

"The bad men will get me. Like they got Mommy and Daddy..." this thought brought fresh tears to the boy's eyes, and he hid his face again in his hands. His whole body shook as little sobs escaped from his lips.

Danny hadn't spent much time with children, so at the moment, he was at a loss for what to do. Finally, he sat down next to the boy, and rested his back against the wall the boy was crumpled against. He flinched as Danny sat down, but didn't move.

"My name's Danny Messer," he said. "What's your name?" The boy's sobs came to a slow stop, and he lifted his head from his hands.

"T-trevor," he said softly, running a hand across his eyes and gulped back more tears.

"Trevor," Danny repeated. "I like that name." Trevor looked up at Danny and blinked, the blood and tears glistening on his still baby face.

"My-my mommy picked it out," he said haltingly. Then, before Danny realized what was happening, the little boy's face was buried in his side as he sobbed, holding onto Danny's jacket tightly with both hands.

"Don't let the bad men get me, Danny, dont let them get me..." the boy cried, muffled by Danny's jacket.

For a moment, Danny was frozen. He hadn't known what to do before, but as he saw the boy's hands gripped on his jacket, and heard the sobs that were wracking his tiny body, it was second nature. He carefully wrapped his arms around Trevor, and held him close to his side.

"It's okay, Trevor," he whispered. "It's okay, your safe now..."

From outside the closet, Danny could hear the pounding footsteps of the paramedics on the steps, and within seconds, inside the room. Flack and Stella came in first, stopping at the entrance of the closet door, staring at the little boy sobbing in Danny's arms.

"How's he doing?" he asked. At the sound of another voice in the room, Trevor lifted his head, and yelped at the sight of Flack and Stella in the doorway. Tightening his grip on Danny, the boy stared up at him with fear in his eyes.

"It's okay, Trevor," Danny said, holding the boy close. "That's Don Flack, he's with me, okay? And Stella, she one of the good guys, too," Danny's voice calmed the boy, but Trevor didn't let up on his grip on Danny.

"Hey, Trevor," Flack said from the closet doorway. "Why don't we have a doctor take a look at the cut on her your head, huh?" The boy didn't answer, instead he looked up at Danny.

Danny looked from Flack, who merely shrugged, then back at Trevor.

"Come on, Trevor, lets get you to the hospital, ok?" Trevor sniffled and nodded, his eyes trusting, and he removed his hand from Danny's jacket briefly to wipe at his eyes again, then resumed his grip.

Carefully, Danny stood up within the small confines of the closet, cradling Trevor in his arms. As he stepped out, the paramedics, who had been waiting behind Flack, moved foreward, prepared to take the child from his arms. But Trevor's grip tightened on Danny.

"Can't you take me?" Danny opened his mouth to answer, to say that he was on the job, he had to finish working the crimescene, but Stella beat him to the punch.

"Danny, why dont you take him down? Me and Flack got it covered here." Danny blinked; that was the opposite of what he had expected.

"Are-are you sure?" he asked uneasily, looking at the small child in his arms. Stella raised her eyebrows at him, and nodded at the little boy.

"We can handle it without you, Danny," she said, "i dont think he can."

_She's right, _Danny thought. The boy's hands where gripped tightly onto Danny's jacket, and his face was full of tears and blood from the cut on his eye.

Danny looked at Flack, who nodded.

"We can take care of this, Danny."

"Uh...alright." Danny looked down at Trevor, and was surprised to find him asleep.

"What-" but the paramedic that had earlier tried to take Trevor shushed him.

"Let him sleep. He's just gone through a traumatic event in his life, and we've got to treat this delicately," he told Danny. "Falling asleep is a normal reaction, especially for a child."

"Oh." Danny shifted the small boy in his arms, then made to hand him over to the paramedic. But the paramedic shook his head.

"Detective, you are the only one Trevor trusts right now. He saw his parents murdered right in front of him-and in his mind, you saved him." The paramedic shrugged. "You're his anchor."

"But--" Danny couldn't think of anything to say. He didn't want Trevor to get any worse-he looked as much like a wreck as any five year old would...but he did have a job to do. He didn't think Mac would take to him leaving his job-it would only give him another excuse to fire him. God knows he had enough already...

Stella seemed to read his mind, and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

"I'll explain it to Mac, Danny. You just make sure Trevor's alright, okay?"

Breathing deeply, Danny nodded. He was doubtful that Stella could do much to change Mac's mind. In fact, he knew it wouldn't do any good, but he was in no condition to argue. In a moment, all his energy seemed to have drained away, and he felt almost as exhausted as Trevor.

"Alright," he conceded. Nodding to Stella and Flack, he followed the paramedics out of the building and out to the ambulance. Holding Trevor, he watched as the paramedics open the back doors of the ambulance, and gesture him inside. Carefully, as to not wake Trevor, Danny handed him over to the doctor inside, and then climbed into the back of the vehicle, letting the paramedic close the door behind him. The doctor laid the boy down on the gurney, and began to inspect the cut on the boy's forehead.

"It looks pretty deep," he said to Danny. "He's going to need stitches." He pulled out a syringe from one of the supply boxes, and filled it with a clear liquid.

"What's that?"

"Sedative," the doctor answered. "Post traumatic stress can take a toll on a little guy like this, so its going to give him a few extra hours of sleep." The doctor took Trevor's sleeve and attempted to roll it up to give him the shot, when the boy suddenly jerked awake, and screamed at the sight of the needle coming at him, and the strange man holding it.

He began to thrash and struggle, trying to get away from the doctor.

"Danny!" he screamed, looking around the ambulance with wild eyes. "DANNY!"

"Trevor! Trevor, it's okay!" Danny grasped the little boy's hands, and held him down onto the gurney. "Calm down, Trevor, it's alright..." Trevor continued crying, tears running down his face.

"They're taking me away," he sobbed. "Danny..." Suddenly his eyes closed, and he slumped down onto the gurney again. Danny looked up to see the doctor emptying the contents of the syringe into the crook of the little boy's arm.

"Danny..." the little boy muttered fretfully, his eyes closed, his hand still tightly gripping Danny's. Then, he was still.

Danny sat back against the ambulance wall, shocked at the small child's behavior. The doctor looked at him, and managed a grim smile.

"It happens to all little kids, after something traumatic like that," he said, seeing Danny's shock. "They latch onto someone, see them as their rescuer. It takes a while to get them ready to start their lives again."

"Yeah, I-uh, heard about that," Danny mumbled. "But i didn't think--"

"It would be this bad?" Danny nodded.

"Yeah," he said, staring down at the little boy's hand, tightly gripping his own. This little boy had seen his parents murdered-what had been going through his mind? Danny couldn't imagine the pain of losing two parents, in one fatal swoop, at such a young age. He was all alone, for the first time in his life. It seemed too big for such a little boy.

_It's too big for anyone, to feel alone..._Danny thought, remembering the day after Minhas, how he had been suspected, singled out...

As the ambulance pulled out into the road, Danny looked again at the small hand gripping his own. He didn't know if he could handle something like this; being depended on by someone like Trevor. How was he going to help him get through something like this, when he himself hadn't even gotten through Minhas?

_I have no idea what i'm going to do..._

But Trevor's grip on his hand told him everything he needed to know.

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**so...what do u think? too corny? pleez tell me...i need some constructive criticism...keyword, "constructive"!**

**thanks for reading...**


	2. Chapter 2

Hellooooo everyone!

I'm sorry for such a long wait on this chapter-but i had my reasons! I had two chapters already done for this story, when my disk decided to break. SoI had to completely rewrite this chapter around hockey, homework, and all that other fun stuff going on. I'm also trying to fix some of the errors in the last chapter, brought up by **PRTFCSI** and **Mindy**...but since i'm posting this chapter at midnight, i'm going to wait until tomorrow to fix the previous chapter errors. Anyway, thanks to all of you that reviewed! Thats the most i've ever gotten on one chapter hehe

DISCLAIMER: I...dont...own...csi. Capisce? Now, on with the story...

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**Crawling in the Dark**

**_Chapter Two_**

Mac Taylor toyed with the antenna on his cell phone, trying to will it to ring. He had been waiting for a call from Stella for at least an hour, but so far, the phone had been silent.

The CSI office was no help, either. With most of the CSI's out on cases, and lab techies working dilligently on processing evidence, it too was silent, save for the muffled music coming from Chad's headphones. Even from across the hall, Mac could make out the beat of the music. Normally, he would chastise the lab tech for the noise, but for now he was greatful for the distraction. The whole situation with Danny was making his head spin.

In his entire career as a CSI, Mac had never met a man like Danny Messer. A brilliant CSI, probably one of the best Mac had known, but a totally uncontrolable loose cannon. For one thing, he depended on his instincts, on his heart to make crucial descisions, instead of his head. Sometimes it had worked out...but other times, like Minhas, it had sent everything spiraling out of control. He honestly didn't know what to do with him. Taking him off of the promotion grid was a temporary solution...it wouldn't last forever. Mac was at a loss at what to do next...

The cell phone in his hand began to ring, and he was happy to see that the caller ID read 'Stella'. He answered it and put the phone to his ear.

"Taylor."

"Hey Mac," the familiar voice said over the phone. "Sorry, I know i said I would call earlier, but we had a little problem at the scene."

Mac raised an eyebrow on his end of the phone. He knew that this was Danny's first case back since Minhas- was it possible that something had happened already?

"What happened, Stel?"

Stella must have noticed the terse tone of his voice, because she chuckled slightly on the other end.

"Nothing terrible, Mac. Nothing like Minhas. That's what you were thinking of, wasn't it?"

"No," he lied, bemused at how well she did know him. "So are you going to tell me what happened or do you want me to call Flack?"

"Alright, alright," Stella said. "We found the vics on the floor, one of them looking like they were trying to get to a room in the back of the apartment. Danny and Flack checked it out. The room was empty...but the vic's 5 year old was hiding in the closet."

"Any injuries?" Mac asked, concerned.

"No, just a cut on the forehead, nothing worse. He was shaken up pretty badly, though. Danny's the one that found him-he's at the hospital with him right now."

Mac leaned back in his chair. "How long have they been there?"

"About an hour, hour and a half. I was about to call him, unless you wanted to."

"No, no. Leave him alone," Mac said. "If he's there with the vic, let him process him and do what he needs to do. There isn't a reason to disturb him until he's done. He knows to call in if he finds anything."

_If he doesn't go off on his own again..._

"Alright," Stella said. "I'm about five minutes from the lab, so i'll see you then. Bye."

"'Bye." Mac snapped his cell phone shut, and placed it inside his jacket pocket, then caught sight of Aiden walking by the office.

"Aiden!" he called to get her attention. "Stella's got a case coming in in about five minutes. Head down to the lab, see if you can get a head start."

"Sure thing, Mac," she said, turing back towards the lab. Mac thought of something else, and called her back again.

"Aiden?"

"Yeah?"

"Tell Chad to turn down the music, okay?" Mac watched as Aiden headed towards the lab, being sure to smack the lab tech on the back of the head as she passed him.

* * *

Danny peered through the glass of the hospital room, placing his hand on the window to signal the small boy on the other side that he hadn't moved. Inside the room, Trevor was wrapped tightly in his hospital blanket, his eyes glued to Danny as if it would kill him to look away.

They had brought him in sedated, still holding onto Danny's hand, only an hour before. He had been checked out, and, finding no worse injuries than the cut on his forehead, stitched up while he was still asleep. Because he was part of a homicide investigation, the hospital had given him his own room, but really could not do much more then send in a psych doctor to talk to him when he awoke. That was who was with him now, inside the hospital room on the other side of the glass. Danny expected Trevor to be afraid of her, too, as he had been of Flack and Stella when he first found him, but the woman seemed to bring a sense of calm to the little boy. She had been able to send Danny out of the room to talk to Trevor in private, even though Danny promised to stay where he could see him. The child's eyes hadn't moved from Danny's the entire time, even as spoke to the doctor.

For now, Danny was grateful to have the boy under someone else's care. It gave him a chance to piece together his jumbled thoughts; about the crime scene, about Trevor, and about past events that were continuing to prey on the back of his mind.

He had been _shaking. Shaking, _because he thought someone might jump out of the closet again. Four year olds were afraid of the monsters in their closets, not full grown CSIs. Not Danny Messer.

And then there was Trevor...

The boy was barely five years old...and he was an orphan. He had seen his parents murdered, and hid in a dark closet to save his own life. Danny couldn't blame him for being afraid of his own shadow after an ordeal like that...but the way Trevor had attached himself to Danny had blown his mind. _Why me? _Danny wondered. _Why now?_ _Why did i have to be the one to open that closet? _He was relieved that the little boy had survived; it always tore at his heart to see a young child the victim of such terrible crimes; but why couldn't Flack have opened that door? Or Stella? Why couldn't have Trevor attached to _them? _

In the ambulance, in the apartment, it had all been happening so fast, Danny hadn't known what was going on. But not that he had a chance to really sit, and think about what had happened...

_ I've got too many problems of my own right now, _Danny thought, turning away from Trevor's gaze through the window. _I can't do this..._

"Mr. Messer?"

Danny shook himself out of his reverie, and looked to the doctor now standing at his shoulder. He recognized her as the same one that had been talking to Trevor earlier; the tag on her medical coat reading Dr. Andrea Michaels; and stuck out his hand for her to shake.

_"Detective_ Messer," he corrected, shaking the woman's hand, then gesturing at the hospital room she had just come from. "How is he?"

The doctor followed Danny's gesture, then sighed.

"It's hard to tell, this early," Dr. Michaels said, gesturing to a set of chairs outside of Trevor's hospital room. "Please, have a seat." Danny hesitated, glancing back at the boy through the hospital glass. The doctor seemed to read his mind, and nodded at him assuredly.

"Don't worry. He'll still be able to see you."

Danny followed Dr. Michaels to the chairs and dropped into one, giving her his full attention. Dr. Michaels glanced again at Trevor's room, then turned to Danny, a serious expression on her face.

"Mr.-_Detective_-Messer, I don't have to tell you of the horrors this little boy has lived through. His parents were murdered, he was hiding for his life in a closet, covered in their blood. No one should have to expirience that, no matter what the age, but Trevor did. He's the only one that survived, and now...he's going to have a long road ahead of him before he recovers."

"How long does it usually take for someone to recover from something like that?"

Dr. Michaels shrugged apologetically. "I really couldn't tell you, Detective. It all depends on the patient, and their will to recover. Right now, Trevor has what we call "survivor's guilt". On a fundemental level, he blames himself for not being able to help his parents, and being the only one left alive."

Danny was bewildered. "_Survivor's guilt_?" he blurted. "He's only five years old! How can he--"

"Thats just it, Detective," Dr. Michaels interupted gently. "There was no way Trevor could have helped his parents, both you and I know that. But he doesn't. He doesn't know why he's alive, and why his parents aren't."

Danny let out a breath, and took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes with his other hand. "Poor little guy..."

"That's not the half of it," the doctor said, shaking her head sadly. "His parents were the only relatives he had for 3,000 miles. He has grandfather on his mother's side in San Fransisco-we've already called him-he says there's no way he can jump on a plane to be down here on such short notice."

"_Short notice?" _Danny said in disbelief. "His daughter and son-in-law were murdered, and his grandson's homeless and orphaned-that's not motivation enough to get off his ass and get a plane to New York?" Danny found his voice rising, and Dr. Michaels placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Detective, you need to calm down. It's not good for the patients, especially Trevor-it upsets them."

Danny cast a glance down the hallway, where he could see several patients looking up from their hospital beds to find the source of the disturbance. He gave them a weak wave in response.

"Sorry," he muttered. _Gotta work on those impulses, Messer,_ he thought to himself. "So...what's going to happen to him now? Ya know, if his grandfather's not coming?"

"Well," Dr. Michaels said, "we're expecting his grandfather to come sometime in the month-" Danny bit his tongue against the reply he had to that fact- "-but he can't stay here during that time. Social services will have to place him in a home, or an orphanage, until someone comes to take him."

"Wait-what do you mean 'he can't stay here'?" Danny asked. Dr. Michaels shook her head.

"Technically, there's nothing wrong with him. The stitches will need to be removed later, but other than that, he's perfectally fine, physically. He doesn't _need _to be here."

Danny's jaw dropped. " He doesn't _need _to be here!" he said, a bit of anger rising in his voice again. Dr. Michaels gave him a 'calm down' look, but he ignored her and jumped to his feet. "His parents were _murdered. _He saw them get shot, he _watched them die. _And you say he doesn't _need to be here?_ That he would be better off in some _orphanage?" _Danny's fists clenched at his sides, but the doctor didn't seem to be phased or intimidated by his outburst. She placed a calming hand on his shoulder, and despite his instinct to jerk his arm away, Danny didn't move. Instead he blinked, surprised to find himself nearly shaking with anger. While the doctor didn't seem to be phased by his outburst, he definately was.

_ What the hell was that about, Messer? _he thought to himself, unclenching his fists and staring at his hands. _Thats the kind of stuff that gets you fired...you're already on the fence with Mac. Stop pushing it._

"Sorry," he muttered to Dr. Michaels, unwilling to meet her eyes. _You've just met this kid, _Danny thought. _You've met a million kids like him. Shit happens, it sucks, but they get through it. He's not the only kid whose ever lost someone. What makes him so special?_

Danny couldn't answer that question.

"Detective, please sit back down," Dr. Michaels insisted. "There's more we need to talk about."

Danny shook his head. "No, I really-I have to get back to the lab." He couldn't risk blowing up like that again-he needed to get out of there, and calm himself down before he tried to do anything else. _Maybe i should have waited to come back..._

"I'll send someone back to process him, i can't--" Danny started to turn away, but the doctor grabbed his arm.

"Detective, I agree with you."

Danny stopped, but didn't turn back right away. Instead, he stared at his shoes, not wanting to face the woman again.

"What?"

The doctor manuevered him back into the hospital chair, then took a moment to look back on Trevor. The boy's eyelids were drooping, and Danny could tell that he wanted nothing more than to sleep. But everytime it seemed that sleep was going to over take him, he suddenly jerked awake, and even though he hadnt said a word, Danny knew why. He had been doing the same thing, every night, since Minhas. It was the only way to keep the nightmares at bay.

"Detective, It will take some time for Trevor to recover, but there are ways to make the process...more comfortable, and easy for him. Being in a house full of strangers is not one of those things. He needs someone he's comfortable with, someone he trusts implicitly."

Danny looked away from Trevor, and at the doctor.

"How can he trust anyone, after what happened?" Danny said, more to himself than to Dr. Michaels.

"It will be hard for him, to trust anyone, for a while. For some it may be easier, but sometimes, when a tragic event occurs in a child's life, they latch on to someone. Someone that, in their eyes, can make it all better. Make the pain go away. That person becomes their anchor, and keeps them from floundering." At this point she paused, staring at him for a moment.

Danny shifted uncomfortably at the look the doctor was giving him, but nodded. "Yeah, I heard about that..."

"Detective...I'm not going to beat around the bush. That little boy in that room needs a hero, someone to save him, and help him get through these difficult times. _You, _are his hero Detective Messer, and it is my professional opinion that Trevor would be able to recover much more quickly and easily...if he were to stay with you."

"W-what?" Danny sputtered, leaping to his feet again. "Wait a minute. I'm a _cop_, I can't take care of a kid! I...I.." Danny took a breath, then shook his head. "I'm sorry doctor. I mean I...i've got alot of things going on right now, I can't do this. I'll do what I can, come visit him here on my time off, I mean, he's still part of the case, I can be the one to interview him, but...isn't there a family friend? _Somewhere_ he could go that's..._not_ with me?"

Doctor Michaels sighed, and shook her head slightly. "We haven't found anyone yet. It depends what we can get out of him that he knows about his parent's friends. Chances are that won't be much.

"Detective, I can't force you to do this. No one can. But as you said, Trevor's still a part of the case. He's seen the killer, he knows what happened. It will be hard, but the first step to recovery is facing what you are afraid of. If he could go with you, _know _that you'll be there to protect him-"

"Doctor...I..." Danny took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. This was all becoming way to much for one day.

"I...I can't..." Danny shook his head, putting his glasses back on and turning away quickly. "I really have to get back to the lab...tell him I'm sorry..."

He started to walk down the hallway, hoping to make a quick exit. He needed to get out of there, to go home and _think..._but a small voice coming from one of the hospital rooms stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Danny, where are you going?"

Danny turned back to see Trevor, standing in a hospital gown, pulling an IV behind him as he followed him down the hall. His brown eyes seemed to be able to bore inside him, and he quickly turned back around so he wouldn't have to see them.

"I...I gotta go home, Trevor. I have to go back to work...I'll see you later, okay?" Danny started to walk away again, but Trevor's voice stopped him again.

"But...wait!" The squeaking wheels of the IV and the slapping of Trevor's tiny feet on the linoleum hospital floor made Danny turn around to see the five year old racing after him, much to the dismay of Dr. Michaels, who was following closely behind.

"Danny, don't leave!" Trevor reached Danny and grasped him in a hug, burying his face into his jacket yet again. "Please stay, Danny, I don't want you to go!"

Before he could stop himself, Danny was returning the hug, and was surprised to find his vision was blurry, tears obscuring his eyes. He didn't want to leave Trevor alone, he didn't want to leave him with a house full of strangers. But there was nothing he could do...Mac would fire him in a New York minute...he couldn't let himself get personally involved..._a little late for that, Messer..._

"I'm sorry Trevor, I'm sorry..." He quickly dragged a hand across eyes to hide his would be tears. _First shaking, now crying? What the hell's the matter with you?_

Dr. Michaels caught up with the boy, and carefully pried his hands off of Danny's jacket. "Trevor, why don't we get you back to your room? We can get you something for lunch--"

Trevor tried to shake off the doctor's arm. "No, I want to stay with Danny!" He was crying now, trying to get back to Danny and simotaneously pull his IV with him, but Dr. Michaels held up tightly in her grasp.

"Trevor, the detective has to go. You need to go back to your room--"

"No no no..." Trevor cried, reaching for Danny. "Please don't go, please don't go..." The doctor began leading Trevor back to his room, but his cries rang loudly in Danny's ears, tearing at his heart until he couldn't take it any longer.

"Wait."

Dr. Michaels stopped, and looked back at Danny, loosening her grip on the small boy. Seizing the oppurtunity, Trevor dashed away and grabbed Danny tightly around the waist.

_What are you doing? Get out of there! You can't do this Messer, you know you can't..._

"I...I..." Danny looked down at the small boy, his arms wrapped tightly around him. Around his hero.

"I'm not a hero," he said weakly. "I'm really not. I was just the first one there..."

Dr. Michaels smiled slightly. "Sometimes thats all the hero is, Detective. The guy that's there."

_If you do this Messer, you're going to get fired. Mac's going to kill you. _The detective inside of him knew what he should do. He shouldn't have ever gotten involved.

But the minute he stepped into that closet, he changed everything.

_I became a cop so he could help people. I have to help him._

_I'm going to help him._

Danny took a breath.

"I'll do it."

* * *

Thanks for reading! lets see if we can match the review number of 14 on the 1st chapter :)

-**breakthehabit**


	3. Chapter 3

_I'm really really really really really REALLY sorry about the long wait everyone...i had some issues going on...hockey, track, homework...crazyness : ) Anyway, i've finally hammered out the third chapter...the story will get better, i promise...and i hope it wont take as long as this chapter did._

_Those of you still reading this story, even after the long wait...thanks : )_

_now, on to the story..._

* * *

**_Crawling in the Dark_**

**_Chapter Three_**

****

****

"Believe me, Detective, you wont regret this."

Dr. Michaels gave Danny a warm smile as he signed his name on the last form that she had given him, and handed it back to her. His hand ached; he must have filled out thirty forms and signed his name a dozen times, each time he signed further sealing his fate.

_Mac's going to kill you,_ he thought for the eighth time, rubbing his stiff hand. But it didn't seem to make him as nervous as it had the first time he had thought about it.

There was something about that little boy, something that Danny couldn't brush aside, as he had in so many cases before. He wasn't sure exactly what is was, or when he had realized it, but it was a strong enough feeling that it kept him from leaving the five-year-old boy in the hospital bed behind him.

While Dr. Michaels collected the papers, Danny glanced at the boy sitting on the plastic chairs of the hospital waiting room, his feet not even reaching down to the floor. The hospital had somehow managed to find him small enough hospital scrubs, but his feet were bare except for a pair of white socks. The rest of Trevor's clothes; his shirt, pants, and size four shoes; were in a bag in Danny's hand. All of the clothes, save for his socks, were covered in blood, and had to be tested at the lab to confirm that it belonged to the Roberts' family.

Trevor, for the moment, didn't seem to mind that he was wearing the oversized hospital garments. Instead he was focused on the piece of paper a nurse had given him, scribbling furiously with a red crayon. Every minute or so, he would quickly glance up to find Danny, as if to asure himself that he was still there.

_Don't worry about that, kid,_ Danny thought ruefully. _I'm in way too deep now to leave you here._

Dr. Michaels leafed through the forms briefly, then handed them to the woman sitting behind the hospital desk.

"Molly, can you make sure these go in a safe place?"

The nurse behind the desk nodded, and carefully slid the forms into a folder waiting on her desk, then into a drawer. Dr. Michaels turned back to Danny, and the smile on her face seemed to have doubled, if possible.

"Well, that's it, Detective. Trevor Roberts is officially in the custodity of the New York City Police Department."

"Uh, good. That's...good." Danny shifted uncomfortably under the doctor's intense smile. "So..that's it then."

Doctor Michaels nodded. "That's it. He'll have to come back in a week or so to have the stitches removed and be re-evaluated, but until then, he's good to go. Physically, anyways," she added. Danny nodded, thinking back on the past hour, when she had explained Trevor's condition to him. _Survivor's guilt, _at five years old. From what Danny knew about it, it was a heavy enough burden...but for a five year old? He couldn't even imagine what it was like, thinking it was your own fault that your parents had been killed.

_Well...maybe not parents..._ The image of Minhas, sprawled out on the subway's cement floor flashed through his mind briefly, and he shook his head quickly to clear it.

_Stop it, _he thought. _That is the last thing you need right now. Focus._

"Detective?" the doctor asked. She must have noticed his attention wandering.

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to give you my personal cell number, in case you have any problems," she said, scribbling some numbers down on a Post It note. "I have it on me at all times, and I check my voicemail as often as I can between shifts." She handed Danny the number, and he carefully stuck it into his pocket. When he looked up again, he was surprised to see her holding out a 50 dollar bill.

"Take it," she said, shaking it at him. "I know you can't take anything from the crime scene. This should pay for a few sets of clothing, so he doesn't have to wear those scrubs for two weeks."

"You don't need to do that," Danny said quickly. "I can handle it, I--"

"No," Doctor Michaels interuppted. "You didn't ask for this, and seeing as its partially my doing, I'm going to do my part." Seeing Danny's hesitance to take the money, the doctor grabbed his hand and placed the bill into his palm, closing his fingers over it. "Don't worry about it," she said with a smile.

Danny returned her smile. "Thanks," he said, carefully folding the bill and placing it in his pocket next to her phone number.

"No problem, Detective. Be sure to call me and let me know how Trevor's doing, alright?"

"Will do." Danny picked up the plastic bag containing Trevor's bloodstained clothes, and made his way towards the plastic waiting chairs. Trevor had already gathered the small box of crayons and paper that a nurse had given him while he was waiting, and scampered quickly to meet Danny on his way over.

"Are we going now?"

Danny nodded, carefully moving the bag with Trevor's clothes behind him so the boy wouldn't have to see them. "Yeah. You ready to get out of here?"

Trevor nodded enthusiastically, and reached out a hand to grasp Danny's, tighter than he had expected. Danny glanced down at the boy's white socks, already begining to darken from walking without shoes. Even the shiny hospital floors couldn't keep out the dirt.

"Are you sure you don't want me to carry you...or something?"

Trevor glanced down at his feet and wiggled his toes. "No. My socks are always dirty," he said matter-of-factly. Danny shrugged.

"Alright, if you say so."

The two of them made their way through the ER lobby, and out the ambulance bay doors that they had originally came in through. Danny breathed deeply, happy to be out of the hospital. He had never liked them, and he didn't make it a hobby to visit.

"So...where are we going?"

Danny paused outside the hospital's sliding doors. In the all the commotion, he had completely forgotten that he had left his car at the crime scene...6 blocks away.

"Damn," he swore.Pulling out his cell phone, he checked the time. It was nearly 10 am, almost four hours since he had gotten to the crime scene...meaning that he was four hours late on getting back to the lab. He supposed going to the hospital would buy him an hour or two, seeing as how he had to process Trevor...but the extra hours he knew he would have to explain to Mac.

"Dammit..." he muttered. _How am I ever going to explain this?_ Glancing down at Trevor, Danny quickly bit his tongue. _Smooth, Messer..._

"Sorry," he said quickly. "Pretend you didn't hear that."

Trevor looked up at him innocently. Danny found a smile creeping to his own face. When Trevor smiled, he was begining to learn, it was nearly impossible not to smile back.

_Smiling's not going to help you get out of here, _the little pessimistic voice in the back of his head hissed. Danny's smile quickly faded, and he reached into his pockets, feeling past the money and telephone number the doctor had given him, and was surprised to find them empty.

_Great, _he thought sourly. He must have left his wallet in his car, and without it, there was no way to pay for a cab. He bit his lip, thinking for a moment, then pulled out his cell phone once again. He was going to have to call for a ride, whether he liked it or not.

He glanced down at Trevor. _How am i going to explain him? _

He couldn't call Stella for a ride; she would ask too many questions, and she'd definately tell Mac about Trevor. He briefly considered calling Aiden, knowing that she would be able to back him up until he could figure out just how to explain the situation. But she was already at the lab...and he didn't want to pull her into this yet, if he had to. Besides, he still knew one more person that he knew he could count on...

Wondering why he hadn't thought of it earlier, Danny began dialing Flack's cell phone number.

* * *

Don Flack's cell phone began to ring just as he was pulling out of his parking space in front of the NYC police department. It didn't ring at a very convienient time, either; a driver in the road was moving to cut him off. Using one hand to turn the wheel sharply into traffic, he pulled out his cell phone with the other, flipping it open on the fourth ring.

"Flack."

"Hey Flack, it's Stella," the voice on the other line said. It was interupted by the loud honking from the driver in the car behind him, who was not happy that he was being cut off. In the rear view mirror, Flack could make out the driver's choice finger sticking up at him.

"Hold on, Stella," Flack said, and putting the phone down for the moment, used his free hand to flip some fingers of his own at the driver behind him. "Jackass," he muttered, pulling his car ahead and ignoring the continuing honks behind him. He picked up the phone from the seat beside him.

"You're making loads of friends today, aren't you?" Stella said dryly. Apparently the honking had made it through the phone lines.

"New York traffic," Flack shrugged, smiling. "Sorry about that...what's up?"

"Not much, we're just getting started on examining the evidence from the Roberts' apartment."

"Find anything yet?"

"Not much," Stella said ruefully. "But it would help if we had the witness here. Have you seen Danny?"

"No," Flack said, surprised. "Isn't he processing that kid in the hospital?"

Flack heard Stella sigh on the other end of the phone. "Yes, but he went there over 4 hours ago. It shouldn't have taken him that long to finish."

"Do you want me to look for him?"

Stella paused. "No," she said finally. "We've got enough evidence here to start-we can wait it out until he gets here."

"You sure?" Flack asked. "I don't mind looking-"

"No, no. Just, if you talk to him, tell him to get back here."

"Alright. I'll call you if I see anything."

"Thanks, Flack. Bye."

Flack snapped his cell phone shut, pondering what Stella had said. It wasn't like Danny to be late, escpecially when he was on the job.

Before Flack could think about it any longer, his cell phone rang again. Reading the caller id this time, Flack was relieved to see that it read DANNY MESSER. Flipping it open again, he put it to his ear.

"Danny?"

"Hey, Flack." The voice on the other end sounded exhausted.

"Danny, are you okay? Everyone's been lookin for you, ya know."

"I was inside the hospital, I couldn't have my cell phone on." There was a slight pause on the other end of the line. "I bet Mac's pissed."

Flack shrugged. "Dunno, I've only talked to Stella. Didn't sound pissed to me."

"Yeah, she wouldn't..." The line went silent for a second.

"Danny?"

"Uh, yeah...listen, d'you think you could pick me up from the hospital? I left my car at the crime scene."

"Yeah, sure, no problem," Flack replied. "I'll be there in about ten minutes, okay?"

"Alright...thanks Flack. 'Bye."

Flack snapped his cell phone shut, and started the engine of his police cruiser. _What is up with Messer today? _he thought. Danny had looked about ready to fall asleep that morning, and it seemed like he hadn't gotten any better. He could tell that his friend probably wasn't getting much sleep, and although Danny hadn't said anything, he could guess the reason. This Minhas thing had stung him, much deeper than he was letting on to anyone else. Enough to lose sleep over, at least.

But even Flack knew that even if it was bothering him, he wouldn't say anything. He never had; Danny Messer was one of his best friends, and the most stubborn. _Probably why we get along so well, _Flack thought wryly. The police chief had often commented on his own bull-headedness, so it was no surprise that his friends would be the same.

The driver behind him began to honk his horn once again as Flack pulled his car in front of him and into the turning lane that would take him to the hospital. Several other cars already in the turning lane began honking too as he cut into their line, and he waved cheerfully at them as he passed.

_New York traffic, _Flack thought. _Gotta love it._

* * *

Flack pulled up to the ambulance bay doors at the front of the hospital, and it didn't take him long to see Danny, pacing anxiously at the hospital doors, swinging a sealed hospital bag absently in his hand. Flack smiled slightly, knowing that every moment of inaction, to Danny, was torture. He always had to be doing something, solving a case, processing a crime scene, _something_ to keep him occupied.

As he expected, it didn't take Danny long to notice that he was there. He waved, but instead of coming out to the car, he went back inside the hospital.

_Where is he going? _Flack wondered. He waited a few moments, and Danny reemerged. But this time he wasn't alone. Trailing behind him, in a small hospital uniform and white socks, was the boy from the crime scene. Confused, Flack waited a few seconds, expecting someone from Social Services to be coming out to take him, but no one did. Instead, the boy, whose name he couldn't remember, followed Danny to Flack's police cruiser.

"Hey," Danny said, leaning in the police cruiser's window. "Thanks for swinging by...I left my wallet in my car, or else I'd have called a cab..."

"That's alright," Flack shrugged nonchalantly. "You can pay me when I drop you off." Looking around Danny, Flack could see the boy, shuffling slightly behind Danny as Flack tried to see him.

"He coming with us?" Flack asked, gesturing towards the boy. Danny turned to see what Flack was looking at.

"Oh...yeah." Danny beckoned the boy closer. "Trevor, this is my friend Don Flack. You remember Detective Flack, right?" Danny asked. Trevor nodded, glancing shyly up at Flack.

"Hi," he said. "I remember you. You're one of the good guys."

Flack chuckled at that. "Yeah, that's me. How ya doin'?" He didn't voice the question he really wanted to ask: _Why are you coming with us?_

Trevor shrugged. "My socks are dirty," he said, looking down at his feet. "But that's okay, 'cause my socks are always dirty."

"Yeah, mine too, kid," Flack laughed. "Well, doors are open, don't know what you boys are waiting for."

Danny opened the back seat door for Trevor, and slid the bag he had been carrying under the seat. Flack assumed it probably held the boy's clothes for the CSIs to test back at the lab.

After making sure Trevor was secure in the backseat, Danny climbed in the front seat next to Flack.

"Thanks again for the ride, Flack," Danny said, shaking his head. "Leaving my wallet in my car, it's like asking to be robbed, huh?"

"Yeah," Flack agreed, only half focused on the conversation. Danny was definately dodging the unasked question of why this boy was accompanying them. After years of interrogating suspects on the force, Flack wasn't easily side tracked by that tactic. Shifting his car into drive, he pulled out into the street and proceeded to find the fastest route back to the crime scene.

It was probably something simple, like looking at mugshots or a lineup, nothing really interesting, Flack thought. What more could Danny need the boy for, after all the time he had spent in the hospital with him?

But why not just come out and say it? Flack wondered. Danny hadn't said a word about the boy in the backseat, except to introduce him, and it was a little odd for him not to have. Flack _was_ giving him a ride...why shouldn't he know why? Finally, Flack's own curiousity took over.

"So.." he asked, breaking the silence. "He's going with you?" He gestured at the boy in the backseat.

"Uh, yeah..." Danny shifted his gaze from Flack, to his shoes, then at Trevor in the backseat. "I'm bringing him to the lab to question him...get his story, and everything."

"You haven't done that yet?" Flack glanced away from the road to look at Danny. "What have you been doing at the hospital this whole time?"

"He was asleep," Danny said defensively. "And I wanted him to calm down first." He shrugged. "Besides, we still have to run some tests and process him. I didn't have my kit with me when I got to the hospital."

Flack nodded, still a little puzzled. If he hadn't been questioning Trevor, or processing him, what _had _Danny been doing all that time?

"So, social services doesn't mind you just taking off with him like this? Don't they have some kind of restriction on that or something?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Flack could see Danny shifting nervously in the passenger seat.

"Actually, uh...Trevor's not staying with Social Services," he said.

"Oh," Flack said. _Well, that explains it, _he thought. _The hospital found a relative. _"I didn't know he had other family members around here."

Danny shook his head. "He doesn't. His grandfather lives on the west coast and can't be here for a couple of weeks."

Flack looked at his friend, confused.

"Alright, so if he's not staying with social services, and not with a family member, where's he going?"

Danny paused, shooting Flack a glance out of the corner of his eye, but didn't answer right away.

"Danny?"

"He's...he's gonna...stay with me."

Flack's head snapped around to look at Danny, certain he hadn't heard correctly.

"What do you mean, 'he's staying with you'?"

"It's just for a couple of weeks," Danny said quickly. "Just until his grandfather comes, you know, so he won't--"

Flack stopped at the red light he had just pulled up to, stepping on the brake pedal a little harder than necessary, then turned to Danny.

"Danny, are you _insane? _You're a cop, you can't take care of a kid and work at the same time! You--" Flack stopped short when he saw Trevor look up from the backseat. He didn't want to do this in front of the kid.

Flack drove the next few minutes to the crime scene in silence, his friend a stoic statue beside him. Pulling up beside Danny's parked car, Flack shut off his engine and opened his door.

"Trevor, can you wait in here for a minute?" Danny said, opening his own door.

"Mmm'kay," Trevor mumbled absently, glancing up only briefly from the picture he was coloring. Danny nodded, and stepped out of the police car, shutting the door behind him.

Flack didn't wait for Danny to speak.

"Danny, do you have ANY idea what you are doing?"

"Yes," Danny said scathingly. "He needed somewhere to go. What, did you expect me to leave him there?"

"Yes!" Flack said, exasperated. "That's what you are _supposed_ to do. Social services, foster care-any of that ringing a bell, Messer?"

"Don, you don't get it," he said, shaking his head. "You wouldn't get it--

"Oh yeah?" Flack challenged. "Then explain it to me, because i'm obviously not catching on."

"Flack, I _have _to do this. I can't explain it, I just..." Danny sighed, and slumped down on the hood of his car, head in his hands. "...I couldn't leave him there, Don."

Flack stared at his friend, worried by his sudden change in attitude. Danny Messer was one of the toughest, most stubborn guys he knew, and very rarely did he ever show even the slightest hints of weakness. Or let his defenses down. But that was exactly what he was doing now.

"Well, what about social services? They take in a million kids like him, everyday. He'll be fine there."

Danny shook his head stubbornly. "It would kill him," he said flatly. "He'd be living in a house full of strangers...he's seen his parents get _murdered_, Don. He needs someone he can trust, not people he doesn't even know."

"Yeah, you're probably right," he agreed. "But Danny, there are a million kids in Trevor's situation. You know we've seen them before, and you've never wanted _them _to come live with you. What makes him so special? Huh? Why _this_ kid?"

Danny was silent for a moment.

"I...I don't know, Flack. I..." Danny shook his head, and rubbed a hand over his eyes. "He needs me, Don. You weren't in that hospital, you didn't see him...he'll fall apart." He smiled ruefully. "I'm his_ hero."_

Flack sighed, then joined his friend leaning on the hood of the car.

"Have you talked to Mac about it?"

Danny snorted. "Mac would fire me in a heart beat if he knew." He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "He doesn't need another reason do that," he mumbled. "I've already pissed him off enough for one lifetime."

"Wait, so you mean Mac doesn't know?" Flack's mind whirled. _This is all way too much drama for one day, _he thought. "Danny, do realize what you're doing?"

Danny's eyes grew cloudy. "Yes," he said defensively, standing and putting his glasses back on.

"Danny, you can't hide this forever. You know you're already on thin ice to begin with, and I think Mac's going to notice a little kid following you around in the lab."

"Mac doesn't need to know," Danny muttered. "He'd send Trevor back, and fire me in a second... and that's all the reason for him NOT to find out..." Danny glanced over at Flack, his eyes pleading.

It took Flack half a second to realize just what Danny was asking.

"You want me to lie to Mac Taylor," Flack said increduolously. "Are you kidding me, Messer?"

"Come on, Flack," he pleaded. "Two weeks. That's it. Then he's gone."

"Danny, I'm not going to lie to Mac! You know how much shit the _both _of us would be in?"

Danny scowled.

"Fine," he muttered. "So much for having my back."

_Oh he is NOT playing that card on me, _Flack thought angriliy. Danny turned to walk back to the car, but Flack grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"Hey, don't start that crap again, Messer," Flack said. Danny tried to shake off Flack's hand, but Flack only increased his grip.

"Nuh uh, you're going to listen up, Messer. You _know _that I've got your back, didn't we already have this conversation once?"

Danny didn't answer, but he stopped trying to pull away.

"Danny, think about it. You're a _cop. _You work almost everyday, in the crime lab or in the field. What are you going to do when you get called out to cover a murder? What's going to happen to him?"

Danny stared at his shoes, refusing to answer.

"And I know you're still messed about about this Minhas thing," Flack went on. Danny's head snapped around at the mention of the undercover cop's name. He opened his mouth, to deny it, Flack was sure, but Flack cut him off.

"Danny, don't lie to me. You look like you haven't gotten a decent night's sleep the whole time you've been off-I can tell you're not all together yet."

Danny shot him a dirty look. "What are you, my mother?"

"I have _eyes,_ Messer."

Danny's mouth became a thin line, and he jerked his arm out of Flack's grasp, pulling out his keys from his jacket pocket.

"Thanks for the ride, Flack," he muttered, unlocking his car with the pager attached to his key ring.

"Danny," Flack sighed, shaking his head. "Get your ass back here."

"Why?" Danny snapped. "To hear more of your brilliant psychological advice?"

Flack rasied an eyebrow at his friend. "What, because you're offended, or because you know i'm right?"

Danny snorted, but didn't say a word, and didn't move any closer to his car.

"Danny, think about it for more than two seconds. Taking care of a kid is a full time job, even if only for two weeks. How do you expect to take care of a kid, when you can't manage to do it for yourself?"

Seeing the scathing look in Danny's eyes, Flack back tracked.

"What I mean is, you work almost 24/7. Guys like me and you, we can run on a few hours sleep. What about the kid? How's he going to handle that?"

"Trevor."

"What?"

"His name," Danny muttered. "It's Trevor. Not _kid._"

Flack shook his head. "Fine, _Trevor. _Same question."

Danny turned back to Flack, still holding his keys in his hand.

"Flack, I have to do this, alright? _You_ weren't there in that room. _You_ didn't see the look on that little boy's face when I tried to walk away." Danny's voice broke, and he quickly coughed into his hand. When he spoke again, his voice was strong and steady.

"If you want me to tell you what is so different about Trevor, I can't," he said. "Up until today, he was just a regular little kid, living his life. Next minute, his parents are dead, and _boom_, everything changed. And that still didn't make him any different from the hundreds of victims we've seen. But the minute I walked into that closet everything changed, Flack."

Flack stared at Danny, surprised to hear the emotion in his friend's voice. Danny continued in a softer tone.

"This kid saw his parents murdered, saw everything his life was fall apart...and he still trusted me, Flack. Do you know how hard it is to trust someone, after something like that?"

"No," Flack said truthfully. "I don't." He paused. "But you do," he said, remembering the conversation he had had, no more than a week ago, with Danny in the coffee shop. About how he felt no one had trusted him...and how he thought no one had his back.

Danny blinked, surprised. "Yeah," he said softly, as if he was realizing it for the first time. "Yeah, I do..."

A banging noise from the back of Flack's police cruiser interupted him. The two of them turned to see Trevor, pounding frantically on the window of the door.

"_Danny!"_

Danny was off the hood of the car in a flash, opening the door of the police cruiser to let Trevor out. As soon as the door opened, the boy leaped out, catching Danny around the knees and grasping him tightly. His little body shook convulsively, and he buried his face into Danny's jacket. It didn't take a genius to realize that the boy was terrified.

"What's the matter?" Flack asked. Danny looked up from the child attached to his leg, bewildered. "I...I dont know."

"Trevor, what's wrong?" Danny asked anxiously, trying to pry the boy away from him so he could see his face. "Trevor, what--" Danny glanced into the back of the police car, and his eyes grew wide. "_Oh..."_

Flack hurried over to Danny's side, following his gaze and peering into the back of the police cruiser. There, sitting on the seat where Trevor had been sitting, was a single bloody sneaker. The bag that Danny had so carefully tucked underneath the seat lay open next to it, and Flack could see the rest of the blood spattered clothes and the other shoe resting inside. Trevor's clothes, covered in his parent's blood.

On the floor where the bag should have been was a single red crayon. Trevor must have dropped it, and attempted to pick it up, grabbing the bag instead. The boy must have wondered what was in the bag, but probably never expected that. Flack could understand Trevor's reaction. That would freak anyone out, especially a kid...

Danny knelt down beside Trevor and hugged the boy, trying to calm him. "I'm sorry, Trevor, I'm so sorry..." he whispered, his eyes locked on the bag in the cruiser. Trevor didn't respond, only clutched Danny tighter as he trembled.

Flack took the oppurtunity to pick up the shoe and place it back into the bag, making sure it was sealed before taking it over to Danny's car and slipping it in the backseat, out of Trevor's view.

Trevor's shaking seemed to have calmed somewhat, but Flack could tell he was no where near alright. Gathering the boy in his arms, Danny stood facing Flack guiltly.

"I shouldn't have left it where he could find it," he muttered, gently rubbing Trevor's back. "I should have been more careful..."

Flack shrugged. "Kids get into things, Danny, even if you try to hide them. How many times when you were a kid did you find your Christmas presents before Santa brought them?"

Danny shook his head, and held Trevor closer. "Hell of a present to find," he mumbled. "Dammit..."

Flack sighed, and ran a hand through his hair.

"I know it sucks, Danny. He's going through hell, and you've been through it. You want to be there for him, I get that. But don't you understand, Danny? Things like that-" Flack gestured towards Danny's car-"-are going to happen _everyday. _You work in a crime lab, stuff like that is part of the job. How is he-how are _you_-going to handle it?"

Danny lowered his eyes, then shook his head again.

"I know, Flack...I know. But I can't leave him." He raised his eyes. "He's going to wake up every morning, knowing that his parents are gone, knowing that he's alone...and I can't let that happen to him. How i'm going to handle it? I...I don't know. But i'm taking the risk." Danny shook his head, and began walking towards his car.

"I shouldn't have dragged you into this, Don," he sighed. "Go ahead and tell Mac, do whatever you want...I don't care. I'm not taking him back."

Flack watched Danny fumble for the passenger side door, trying to balance Trevor and open the door at the same time. After watching him struggle for a moment or two, Flack made up his mind, and followed Danny to his car.

Danny avoided his gaze, ignoring him, and shifted the boy's weight in his arms to try and get a better grip on the door handle. Flack shook his head, and let out a small chuckle.

"You're not going to ask for help, are you?"

Danny narrowed his eyes. "I can open doors, Flack," he muttered, reaching again for the door handle. Flack beat him to it, opening the passenger door himself, and holding it open.

"I'm not talking about the door, Messer."

Danny looked at him for a moment, then carefully pried Trevor's arms from his neck, and placed him inside the car.

"Trevor, I'm going to be right outside, okay? It'll be alright," he whispered to the boy. Trevor curled into a ball, sinking down into the passenger seat. His eyes were red rimmed and glistening with tears, but he hadn't let them fall. _Tough kid, _Flack thought. _Tough kid..._

"Here, I'll leave the door open, alright?" Danny shut the passenger door half way, and Trevor nodded, rubbing his eyes with his hand.

Danny looked at him worriedly, then looked back to Flack, who shrugged.

"You've got a long road ahead of you. I hope ya know what you're doing."

Danny managed a weak smile, but couldn't hide the worry in his eyes. "Trust me...I have no idea."

"Yeah..." Flack said. "Ya know, Danny...I can't lie to Mac Taylor." Danny dropped his eyes to study his shoes.

"Yeah, I know..." he sighed wearily, defeated. Flack shook his head, unbelieving. _He really doesn't trust anyone to have his back, does he?_

"But..." Flack continued, "I won't volunteer any information."

Danny lifted his head, a somewhat surprised look on his face.

Flack sighed, and placed a hand on Danny's shoulder. "Don't get me wrong, I still think you're crazy for doin' this."

Danny shrugged, a half a smile creeping onto his face. "Maybe I am," he admitted. "I really don't know anymore..."

"Trust me, Messer," Flack said, patting him on the shoulder. "You're insane."

Checking his watch, Flack withdrew his hand from Danny's shoulder. "You better get back to the lab. Call Mac, too, let him know you're on your way."

Danny's face fell at the mention of his boss's name. "Yeah..." he mumbled under his breath, glancing at Trevor. "He'll be thrilled..."

"I'd better be heading back, too...donut breaks aren't as long as they used to be," Flack quipped, heading back toward his car. "You need anything Danny, you know the number."

"Alright...hey, Don?"

Flack turned. "Yeah?"

"Thanks," Danny said, giving Flack an awkward smile. "Really. Ya know, not many people woulda understood, so...thanks."

Flack smiled wanly. "Don't worry about it, Messer. Just don't make me regret it, okay?"

"I won't..."

Flack climbed into his car, but didn't start the engine. He waited, watching Danny kneel down next to the passenger seat to talk to Trevor, and then climb into the driver's side himself and start the car. Waving, Danny pulled out into the street, and his car dissappeared among the masses of New York traffic.

Only then did Flack allow himself to drop his head onto the steering wheel, unable to believe what he had done. He had agreed to help Danny hide a five year old boy from social services, his only living relative, and the New York City Crime Lab...

If anyone ever found out about this, he was _so_ fired...

Sighing, Flack massaged his temples with his hands. He did level on Danny on a some things, though. The boy had attached to him in a way Flack had never seen before...and he had never seen his friend so attached to the subject of any of his cases. Attached enough, it seemed, to risk losing his job to keep him safe, and to keep him from being afraid...

_Trevor's a lucky kid, _Flack realized. Danny might been erratic at some times, but he was loyal, and Flack had no doubts that Danny would defend his decision with his life...or his job, if it ever came to it. That didn't surprise Flack, though...and it wasn't what he was worried about. Truthfully, he didn't believe Danny could handle it, ecspecially now...

Sighing, Flack started his car and pulled out into the street, feeling for his cell phone as he went. He hadn't forgotten his promise to Stella. He quickly dialed her number, and the phone had barely rung twice when she picked up the phone.

"Flack, what's up? You find Danny?"

"Hey Stella," he said, ignoring her lack of greeting. "Yeah, I talked to Danny. He's on his way right now, he got himself tied up at the hospital. With the kid, and everything."

"How is he?"

"Kid's fine...he's with Danny."

"With Danny?" Stella sounded confused. "What happened to social services?"

"Danny needed him at the lab for something," Flack lied. "Some kind of test he needed to do."

"Oh. What did he say he needed him for? Didn't he process him in the hospital?"

Flack paused. He didn't know enough CSI-babble to worm his way out of this one.

"...he didn't say, you'll have to ask him when he gets there," Flack winced. _Sorry, Danny, couldn't avoid it..._ He took a breath, hoping Stella hadn't noticed his hesitation. The line was silent for a moment.

"Alright," she said finally. "I guess we'll see him in a few minutes. Thanks, Flack."

"No problem."

As soon as the phone went dead, Flack sighed in relief. _Danny, you really owe me one..._

Good news was, Stella didn't seem to have noticed his hesitance. Flack was a little unerved about how easy it was to lie to her, though...

All Danny had to do now was keep up the story...or land them both in hot water. _All right, Messer, _he thought. _I did my part. Now its your turn..._

Then again, Flack thought, if it wasn't for Danny doing what he thought was his part, they wouldn't all be in this situation, would they?

And Danny, Flack knew, had drawn the hardest part of all.

* * *

sorry if thats not the knock your socks off chapter you were expecting after that long break...dont worry though, i'm not gonna let that much time go by again!

thanks for reading: )


	4. Chapter 4

First thing-i'd like to apologize to everyone who has been waiting for this story to be updated--i wasn't in my writing mood and hadn't got the chance to fix up this chapter and update...but it is finally here, and i thank you all for waiting so patiently.

Second thing-all normal disclaimers apply.

Third thing-go read the story.

* * *

**_Crawling in the Dark_**

**_Chapter Four_**

"Alright...I guess we'll see him in a few minutes. Thanks, Flack."

Stella closed her cell phone and slipped it back into her lab coat pocket, but didn't head towards Mac Taylor's office right away. Something about Flack's call bothered her...he had sounded tense, and for as long as Stella had known him, the detective was nearly always levelheaded...unless there was something wrong. And there was the way he had hesitated, when she'd asked about Danny... Stella shook her head. It was probably nothing, she thought; maybe he was just having a bad day.

Still, she couldn't keep the nagging feeling out of the back of her mind as she walked back to Mac Taylor's office. She found him sitting at his desk, flipping through a folder that Stella recognized as the one that held the photographs from the Roberts' apartment. She knocked on the doorframe to catch his attention.

"Just got a call from Flack," she told Mac. "Danny's on his way with the boy from the crime scene."

Mac raised an eyebrow. "With the boy? I thought he said he was processing him in the hospital."

Stella shrugged. "I guess he didn't get it all finished." She inspected Mac's face closely, trying to read into what he was thinking. She knew that the whole Minhas ordeal had had as much as an affect on Mac as it had had on Danny. It wasn't hard for Stella to see that Mac had become a mentor of sorts to the younger man, and having to have him pulled from the promotion grid had stung Mac more than he let on.

If Mac was bothered, though, he wasn't showing it. His face was an impassive mask as he joined Stella at the door, handing her a picture from the folder he had been holding.

"Take a look at these footprints," he said, pointing at the picture. Stella looked down at the photo in Mac's hands. It was the photo Danny had taken of the apartment door, with boot prints stamped firmly across the wood. Looking closely, Stella could make out the ridges of the prints, and she raised an eyebrow.

"They're different," Stella said. Mac nodded, pointing the v-shaped ridges on one of the prints. "This one's got more of a V-shaped ridge, while this one-" he moved his finger to the other print, "-has straighter ridges." Stella looked carefully at the photos, tracing the treads of the boots with her finger. There were definately two distinct patterns on the door.

"There were at least two of them," she said, running a keen eye over the photo. "Aiden's running prints from the door handle right now, but if the door was kicked in like it looks, the killers might not have needed to use it."

A beeping from Mac's cell phone interrupted their conversation, and he reached to his waist to read the screen.

"Hawkes," he said. "He's done with the autopsies."

Stella nudged her head in the direction of the morgue. "Shall we?"

Mac stepped aside to let her through, waving a hand.

"Lead the way."

They found the mortician ethusiastically cutting into what Stella recognized as a human brain. If it had been anyone else, Stella would have been worried about the happy grin on the mortician's face, but she had known Sheldon Hawkes long enough now to know that he was never completely happy unless he was delved into his work.

He looked up though when they came in, and put down his scalpel. "You guys here for the Roberts?"

Stella nodded. "Show us what you got."

"Well, there aren't many surprising twists with these two," Hawkes said, leading the two of them over to the autopsy tables." Pretty much what you see is what you see."

"Josh Roberts," he said, pulling back the sheet on one of the bodies. "Died of a single gunshot wound to the belly, bled out. The bullet was lodged in his spinal cord-would have paralyzed him from the waist down until he passed out from blood loss." Hawkes pulled out an evidence container containing a single bullet and handed it to Mac

"That explains the crawling," Mac said aloud, holding up the bullet. "He was trying to reach his son, hiding in the other room, but he couldn't get up."

Hawkes let go of the sheet to point to several light colored bruises around the victim's eyes. "There's some bruising on the eyes and cheekbones, they seem to be a few days old-the nose seems to have been broken, too, pretty recently. I'd guess your vic got into it with someone about a week before he died."

"Could be motive," Stella said. "Someone wanted to teach him a lesson, came back to finish the job."

"I also found splinters in his hands," Hawkes added, holding up the victim's hand to showcase the tiny slivers of wood stuck in the man's flesh. "I've already pulled a few of those out for you, too." He handed these to Stella, who held them up to the light.

"If he was crawling, these splinters are probably from the wooden floor of the apartment," Stella said. He gestured to the other autopsy table with his free hand. "What about her?"

Hawkes turned to the other autopsy table where Dana Roberts lay.

"Single bullet through the chest, there's an exit wound between the shoulder blades. Shot pierced her heart, killing her instantly." He held up Dana's hands in his own, showing them palms up to Mac and Stella. "No defense wounds that I could see."

"She didn't have time to make them," Stella said, shaking her head. "They caught her off guard."

Hawkes nodded, and pulled the sheet back over Dana Roberts's face.

"Thanks, Sheldon," Mac said.

"No problem," he said, retrieving his scalpel from the table. "Now if you don't mind...I've got to pick this guy's brain." He flashed both of them a smile, and then gave his full attention to the brain on his table.

Stella shook her head as she and Mac began the walk back to the lab. "You ever get the feeling that he likes his job a little _too _much?"

Mac grinned slightly. "Sometimes." He rolled the bullet in the plastic container Sheldon had given him. "The bullet's in pretty good condition. I'll see if i can't match it to the one we pulled out of the wall of the apartment, find a weapon in CODIS."

Stella held up the tiny slivers that Hawkes had pulled from Josh Roberts's hand. "Well, these splinters back up the autopsy, they prove that Josh Roberts was crawling on the floor of his apartment. Aiden could use some help processing all the evidence from the crime scene-at least until Danny gets here, so i'll be there if you need me."

Stella saw a shadow pass over Mac's eyes at the mention of Danny's name. "Yeah," he muttered, his face troubled. "Stella, about Danny..."

"What about him?"

Mac opened his mouth to speak, then hesistated. Closing his mouth, he shook his head. "Never mind."

But Stella wasn't fooled-she had worked with Mac Taylor long enough to know when something was bothering him.

"'Never mind'? Mac, come on. Something's on your mind."

Mac smiled wryly. "I can't hide anything from you, can I?"

Stella shook her head. "Nope. Now what is it?"

Mac was silent for moment, and shrugged his shoulders. "It's Danny," he admitted. "I...I don't..." Mac rubbed a hand over his forehead. "I don't know what to do with him, Stella. The past few cases he's been reckless, impulsive. I mean, the living statue case, and now Minhas..."

The two of them came to a stop at the entrance to ballistics, and Mac turned to face Stella.

"Taking him off the promotion grid, that's only temporary. Long term…I don't know." Mac sighed deeply, making it easy for Stella to see the tired lines tracing his face. _He's really losing sleep over this, _Stella thought. Her concern for him jumped up a notch, and she placed on hand on Mac's arm.

"Danny's had a rough time, Mac. We've got to let him get through it, it'll be alright."

Mac gave her a disbelieving look, one that in any other circumstances might have made her laugh, if not for what was behind it.

"Mac, it's only his first day back." Stella moved her hand from his arm to his cheek. "Let it work, alright?"

Mac smiled slightly, but his face was still troubled. "Yeah, you're right." He held up the bullet in its plastic container, and nodded towards the lab. "I'll run this through the database. Call me if you find anything." With that, Mac disappeared inside ballistics double doors.

Stella watched him through the glass for a moment, shaking her head. Mac was a great CSI, the greatest she'd ever worked with, but he was a terrible actor. She knew that he was no more less stressed out about Danny's situation than he had been before, although she would have liked to have thought otherwise, and he would never admit it. Then again, Mac had never been one to openly express how he was feeling-if Stella had learned anything through the past 15 years working with him, it was that he seldom told anyone if something was bothering him.

Glancing down the hallway, Stella could see Aiden bending over one of the lab tables, inspecting a piece of evidence carefully. A mountain more of it was sitting on the table next to her-with Danny coming in late, she was shorthanded on processing. Taking a final glance into ballistics, Stella headed towards the lab.

* * *

Danny glanced worriedly at the small boy in his passenger seat, at the same time trying to keep an eye on the road ahead of him. Trevor hadn't said a word since they had left Flack, but instead had stared aimlessly out the window of the car. His eyes, red and bloodshot, never seem to focus on anything, but simply skim over everything he saw.

Once again, Danny cursed himself for leaving the bag where Trevor could have found it. How could he have been that stupid?

Danny pulled his car into a parking spot in front of the New York City Crime Lab, and turned off the engine. Tentatively, he touched Trevor's shoulder. The boy flinched, and shrank away from Danny's hand. Danny pulled his hand back, unsure of what to do.

"Trevor, I'm sorry," he said, somewhat lamely. _How do you apologize to a kid? _he wondered. "I shouldn't have hid that from you, I..."

Trevor continued to star blankly out of the window; Danny couldn't even tell if he had heard a word he had said. He put out a hand again to touch the boy's shoulder, and held it there even when Trevor tried to flinch away.

"Hey...hey, Trevor, listen to me."

Trevor didn't speak, but turned his head away from the window, and glanced down at his stocking feet.

"I'm sorry about what happened to your mom and dad. No one...no one should have to go through that, alright?" Motionless, Trevor sniffled, and two drops fell from his eyes onto his lap, making dark circles on the legs of his hospital scrubs.

"And they guys that did it? They deserve to be punished." Danny put his hand under the boy's chin and lifted his head up. "They're _going _to be punished. Alright?"

Trevor rubbed a hand over his eyes and sniffed.

"You promise?" he asked softly.

"I _promise," _Danny said firmly. How many times had he said those words, to countless victim's families? Most of the time, he was always able to keep his promise...but there were those times when he couldn't, when the evidence wasn't enough, when the bad guys got away.

This time, though, it was different. He was not going to let Trevor fall through the cracks-he was going to keep this promise even if it killed him.

Trevor rubbed his eyes one last time, and took a shaky breath.

"Okay," he murmured softly. He looked up at Danny. "Now what do we do?"

"Now?" Danny echoed, giving the boy a small smile. "Now we find the bad guys."

* * *

Aiden stood back from the lab table, her eyes scanning over the items she had spread across it. Two sets of bloody clothing, prints from the door handle and boot prints from the wood of the Roberts' apartment door, a broken chain lock, and several of the Roberts' personal effects.

_So much evidence, so little time,_ she thought. As far as she knew, Mac and Stella were still down in the morgue getting Hawkes's report, and she couldn't even begin to fathom where Danny was. The last time she had talked to him, he was on his way to the crime scene...and that had been hours ago.

_Where the hell are you, Messer? _

Sighing, she pulled on her gloves. The evidence wasn't going to process itself, and she didn't have all day to wait for him.

Josh Roberts's shirt was first on the list. The bottom half of it was soaked in blood-that made sense, seeing as how he had bled out all over his apartment floor. Aiden focused her attention on several brown stains around the shirt's collar. It looked like dried blood, but just to be sure, she collected some on the end of a Q-tip, and dripped a few droplets of a tell-tale liquid. Just as she had expected, the end glowed pink.

"Looks like blood," a familiar voice said from behind her. She turned, half expecting to see Danny, but instead all she saw was the slender lab techie Chad standing behind her.

"Oh, its you," she said, disappointed. Chad put a hand to his heart, pretending to be hurt.

"Oh, buuurned by Burn," he said in a mocking mournful tone. "That and the bruise on the back of my head, I'd say I'm having a pretty good day." His eyes quickly found the mass of evidence on the lab table, and his eyes lit up.

"Need some help?" he asked

Aiden rolled her eyes, and held up the Q-tip with the positive for blood. "Found dried blood on the vic's collar, seems to have been there a lot longer than the blood from gunshot. Could you run it through DNA for me, make sure it's the vic's?"

Chad mock-saluted her, and taking the Q-tip from her hand. "Aye aye, captain," he said. "Back in a bit."

Chad made his exit, holding the lab door open for Stella as she entered.

"Hey, Aiden," she said, pulling on a pair of CSI gloves as the door shut behind her. "Find anything?"

Aiden shook her head, peering over the rest of Josh Roberts's shirt, and onto his jeans. "Nothing out of the ordinary...well, besides the blood, I mean. But trust me, we got a lot more to go." She waved her hand at the pile of evidence still waiting to be processed. "I don't know where the hell Danny is, but he'd better get in here pretty fast or _I'm_ gonna shoot him."

Stella pulled out the pair of jeans belonging to Josh Roberts from the evidence pile and shook her head.

"Flack just called, he's on his way. He got tied up with the victim's son at the hospital."

Aiden looked up from the shirt. "The Roberts had a kid?"

Stella nodded. "We found him hiding in the back of a closet, pretty shaken up."

"Yeah, who wouldn't be?" Aiden quipped, shaking her head. "Poor little guy..."

"Yeah," Stella agreed. "Take a look at this, though." She held up one of the pant legs of Josh Roberts's jeans, pointing to a brown smudge where his knee would have been.

"Looks like dirt," Aiden said, taking a closer look. "Could tell us where he's been."

"Yeah. Check this out-there's some kind of lighter substance mixed in." Stella pulled a piece of tape off of the roll on the lab table, and carefully smoothed it out over the stain. With a delicate tug, she pulled the tape back off to reveal several dirt particles as well as lighter, finer tan slivers sticking to the surface.

"Looks like saw dust," Aiden said. "Construction area?"

"Could be. I'll take it over to trace, see if i can't find out where the dirt might have come from." Stella folded over the tape so none of the particles could escape, and headed back the way she had come, towards Trace.

Aiden turned her attention back to Roberts's jeans, but had only glanced at them before she was again interrupted by Chad tapping her on the shoulder.

"Tested the blood from the vic's shirt," he said, holding up a sheet of paper. "Compared it to the vic's-it doesn't match."

"It doesn't match?" Aiden said in surprise. Chad shook his head.

"Nope. I did find a match in AFIS, though." Chad handed her one of the sheets of paper he was holding. She took it, and found herself looking at a Puerto Rican man with dark hair and dark eyes.

_Antonio Peralo. _The name under the picture read. _Arrested May 2005._

"Says here he was arrested for assaulting another customer in a bar fight in Queens," Aiden said, reading further down the page. "Paid a fine, did time, went home."

Chad pointed further down the page. "Last known address is south of the Bronx."

"That's near where the Roberts were found," Aiden said aloud. She glanced at the bloodstain on Josh Robert's shirt again, them at Antonio Peralo's photograph.

"_And..._" Chad added. "He was last known to be employed for a construction company in the same area."

"Sawdust," Aiden said, remembering the wood splinters on Roberts's jeans. _Time for a field trip, _she thought. "Thanks, Chad," she said, putting the paper on the table. Chad grinned.

"Anytime," he said. "Anything else?"

Aiden shook her head, and pulled off her protective lab gloves. "I'm going to go have a little chat with Antonio Peralo."

Picking up the paper with Peralo's address and taking out her cell phone, Aiden began to dial Flack's number, intending to have him meet her at Peralo's apartment, but a familiar figure coming around the corner stopped her dialing. It was Danny, holding in one hand the brown bag that Aiden recognized as one that hospitals gave out to patients to keep their belongings in, and holding the hand of a small boy in hospital scrubs in the other.

The Roberts' sonAiden realized. But why was he here? Danny was at the hospital for hours, that should have been enough time to interview the boy.

"Hey, Messer!" Aiden called. Her voice catching his attention, Danny looked up and gave her a small smile.

"Hey Aid," he said. "How's it goin'?"

Aiden smirked, and gestured back towards the lab and the mountain of evidence. "Just great, Messer...I always wanted to process half of the Bronx all by myself."

Danny's face fell. "Yeah, sorry about that," he muttered, holding up the bag in his hand. "'Fraid I'm leaving you some more," he said, handing her the bag. Aiden rolled her eyes, but took the bag from Danny's hand, and finally acknowledged the little boy at Danny's hip.

"Who's this?"

Danny followed her gaze. "This is Trevor. He's going to be hanging with me today." _Hanging with you? _Aiden wondered. _During the investigation?_

"Trevor, this is Aiden Burn."

Aiden smiled at the boy, and kneeled down to his level. "Hey there, guy. How ya doin?"

"Hi," Trevor said shyly, pressing himself closer to Danny. "Are you one of the good guys too?"

Aiden laughed, and stood up to stand next to Danny. "Yeah, kid," she said. "But you better watch your back, hanging out with a shady guy like Danny, here."

Trevor shook his head defiantly, his shyness forgotten. "Danny's not _shady, _he's one of the good guys!"

Aiden laughed at the little boy's earnest, and glanced over at Danny. "Looks like you got a fan club, huh Messer?"

Danny shrugged and shot Aiden a grin. "I guess so." He raised his eyebrows at her. "You know, if you wanna join, Burn..."

Aiden rolled her eyes and shook her head. "No, thanks, Danny, I got better things to do than over inflate your ego."

"Ouch," Danny smirked, putting his hand over his heart. Aiden held up the bag.

"I'll drop this off with Chad-we got a name off a trace on the vic--" Aiden caught her tongue, remembering that Trevor was in earshot, and dropped her voice to a low whisper. "Off of the vic's shirt. Me and Flack are on our way to bring him in. Wanna come?"

Danny glanced down at Trevor, then shook his head.

"Nah...I got things to care of here. Call me when you get back, though, alright?"

"No problem. See ya later, Messer," Aiden said. She waved at Trevor. "Bye, Trevor."

"Bye," Trevor said, grinning and waving his hand in return. Aiden began to walk back towards the lab, but suddenly stopped.

"Danny?" Aiden said, turning back to face the pair.

"Yeah?"

Aiden smiled. "It's good to have you back."

A real smile spread across Danny's face, more than just the casual grins he had been wearing. "Thanks."

Aiden turned and disappeared back into the lab, and both Danny and Trevor stared at her as she walked away.

"I like her," Trevor said with a smile. "She's pretty."

Danny grinned, watching Aiden through the window. "Yeah, she is."

"Is she your girlfriend?"

Danny's head snapped away from the window, and he glanced down at Trevor in surprise.

"What?"

"Is...she...your girlfriend?" Trevor enunciated slowly. Danny glanced back at the window at Aiden, then back at Trevor.

"No, she's--"

"'Cause you act like she's your girlfriend," Trevor said matter-of-factly.

Danny blinked, then shook his head. "No...Aiden's just my friend." He caught Trevor's disbelieving glance. "Really," he insisted.

Trevor giggled. "Right."

Danny opened his mouth again, but closed it in defeat, shaking his head. He was arguing with a 5 year old...even with his short experience with little kids, he knew it was pointless. Trevor grinned triumphantly, apparently realizing that he had won the battle.

_Aiden's just my friend, _Danny reassured himself. **_Friend._**He hadn't ever doubted that before-Aiden had always been there for him when he needed her, and he never thought of her has anything less than his friend.

But Trevor's know-it-all grin was making him doubt it. _You act like she's your girlfriend..._

Danny glanced quickly back at Aiden through the lab window. Sure, the two of them were together a lot and they _were_ close...

Wait. _He's five, _Danny thought, and suddenly he was annoyed that he had let the boy get to him. _What did he know about girlfriends? _Danny shook his head. _Get a grip, Messer..._

Trevor grinned at him for a minute more, until something further on down the hall behind them caught his attention, and he tugged on Danny's hand insistently.

"Danny-"

"What?" the CSI asked absently, still trying to shake the boy's words from his head. "What is it?"

Trevor waited until Danny was totally broken out of his thoughts before he pointed with his free hand down the hall behind them.

"Who's that?"

"Who's who?" Danny turned to follow Trevor's hand, and instantly felt his stomach drop somewhere near his shoes. The figure that Trevor was pointing at was Mac, exiting the doors to ballistics and heading his way. _Oh, no..._Danny thought, a sinking feeling in his chest. This had been the moment he had been dreading ever since he'd returned-facing Mac Taylor. Of course, when he'd originally dreaded it, he wasn't breaking half of the CSI rules and regulations by carting a five year old behind him...

It seemed to take forever for Mac to reach where the two of them were standing, yet Danny felt like his feet were frozen to the floor. He couldn't run away now; he didn't have a choice but to stay and get it over with...

Mac approached them, his face expressionless except for a single curious glance down at Trevor before he looked back at Danny.

"Danny," he said neutrally.

For a moment Danny couldn't speak; he could barely manage to breathe with the crushing feeling pressing down on his lungs; but he managed to choke out a short greeting.

"Mac," he said stiffly. The stoic expression on Mac's face didn't make it any easier, and without even meaning to every muscle in Danny's body tensed uneasily. Trevor must have noticed Danny's nervousness; he looked up at Danny curiously.

"Welcome back," the Head CSI said coolly, nodding slightly towards the lab that Danny had come from, where Aiden was still sifting through bits and pieces of evidence. "The team's been missing you."

_The team. The team. Not you, _Danny thought. _Of course not, why would you?_

"Ah...thanks," Danny replied hollowly. An awkward silence hung between them, laced with tension. It pained Danny to feel it; it had never been like this before Minhas, but Danny had expected nothing less now.

_Maybe I could have taken a few more days off..., _he thought miserably. O_r a few weeks..._

"Uh, Mac, this is Trevor Roberts," Danny said, gesturing at Trevor. _Better I bring it up first, before he starts..._Danny thought. "Trevor, this is Detective Mac Taylor."

"Hi," Trevor said, looking up at Mac. Mac smiled down at the boy, and gave him his hand to shake. Trevor grasped it warily; he had apparently sensed the tension between them, although Danny was sure that he couldn't have known what it was or why it was there.

"Hey there," Mac said warmly, smiling at him. "Nice to meet you, Trevor." The smile on Mac's face seemed to have done its trick; the wary look Trevor was giving slowly faded to a small grin as he shook the taller man's hand.

"Nice to meet you," Trevor repeated, letting go of Mac's hand and glancing back up at Danny, as if to say, _what's your problem? He seems alright to me._

Danny squared his shoulders as Mac turned his attention back to him, an emotionless expression replacing the warm one he had given Trevor. _Of course that wasn't going to last long..._

"Stella mentioned that you were with him in the hospital," Mac said brusquely, in a softer tone so that Trevor couldn't over hear. "Was there still some processing you needed to do here?"

"Uh-" Danny glanced down at Trevor, whose attention had drifted from the two of them to a vending machine down the hall. Most likely he hadn't eaten anything a while, judging by the longing look in his eyes as he stared at the vast array of skittles, chips, and another snacks in the machine. _He really needs to eat something, _Danny judged quickly. _The last thing I need is him passing out. _Reaching into his pocket, Danny pulled out a crumpled dollar bill and handed it to Trevor.

"Hey kid, why don't ya get us something to eat, alright?" Trevor took the dollar a held it tightly in his little hand.

"Can I get Cheetos?" he asked hopefully.

"Uh, sure, go ahead, whatever you want. I'll be right here, alright?" Trevor nodded and pulled his hand away from Danny's, taking off down the hallway towards the machine. Breathing a sigh, Danny turned back to Mac.

"Aiden's got his clothes, but I..." Danny shifted his gaze, Mac's steel eyed gaze trying his nerves. "...I didn't have my kit with me at the hospital. I just have to debrief him--"

"Did the hospital contact social services?" Mac interrupted. "It's not usual for them to leave a child in our custody after coming from a crime scene."

Danny's heartbeat quickened. "Ah, sure. Yeah, of course they did," he said quickly. He was surprised to hear that his voice, despite the rapid beating of his heart, was strangely calm and without a quiver. "They're coming to get him, after I'm done."

Mac stared at Danny for a moment, and his eyes seemed to see right through him. _Oh, no, _Danny thought. _This is it. He knows, how could he not? _He wanted to be anywhere but here now, with Mac's cold eyes boring into his, reading his thoughts.

"Okay," Mac said slowly, his eyes never leaving Danny's. "I'll let you get to it." Danny blinked in surprise.

_Okay? That's it? _

"Uh, thanks," Danny managed, letting out a quick breath, one that he hadn't even been aware he was holding. _It worked..._

He felt something being shoved in his hand, and he looked down to see Trevor shoving a bag of open Cheetos into his hand, his fingertips already orange and sticky.

"Danny I got you some Cheetos!" he said happily, popping one into his already orange mouth. Glancing up at Mac, he pulled the bag away from Danny's hand and offered it to the older CSI.

"D'ya want one Mister Mac?"

Mac shook his head with a small smile. "No, thank you. I'll see you later, Trevor."

Trevor shrugged, crunching loudly on another Cheeto and looping his free hand into Danny's. "Okay. 'Bye."

"Let me know when you're finished so we can get you up to speed," Mac said, looking back up at Danny. Danny nodded.

"Yeah, sure Mac."

Mac nodded shortly, and continued into the lab, stopping briefly to talk with Aiden before moving on. Danny watched him go and waited until he had turned a corner before finally letting out a shaky breath. _Well, _he thought dryly_, getting past those steel daggers being shot at me, that wasn't bad at all… _He took a few more breaths, and managed to get his rapidly beating heart to slow down enough to hear himself think.

Mac's easy acceptance of what he'd been doing surprised him. He was certain Mac could see through him as easy as if he were glass…but he hadn't. He had, at least for now, gotten away with it.

He shook his head, nerves still on edge.

_You got lucky, Messer, _he thought warningly. _Don't push it…_

Beside him, Trevor was wriggling uncomfortably.

"Danny, you're squeezing my hand!"

Danny quickly loosened his grip on the boy's hand. "Sorry, Trevor," he said apologetically.

Trevor crunched on another Cheeto and licked his orange lips. "S'ok," he mumbled nonchalantly. He held up one of the crunchy orange snacks to Danny.

"Want a Cheeto?"

_No, _Danny thought ruefully, _I want a stiff drink and I want to get the hell out of here. _He glanced down at the small boy next to him holding up a Cheeto, and found that, over the stress he was feeling and his own jittering nerves, another smile working its way onto his face again.

"Thanks, Trevor," he said, taking the Cheeto and popping it into his mouth. It was no stiff drink, but Danny was sure, gripping Trevor's hand a bit mre securely, a Cheeto had never tasted so good.

* * *

Comments and feedback greatly appriciated. : )

-**_breakthehabit_**


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